Seven Reasons Why
by ohkisme
Summary: Highschool AU- Both Dean and Cas wind up in the same hospital for self-destructive reasons, and leave best friends and maybe more. TW for cutting, homophobia, slurs, abuse, and suicide.
1. Because I could write about you forever

Mark Twain once said that the two most important days of your life are the day you were born, and the day you find out why. I always agreed, but I never found out my reason until now. I believe that, for the first time, I know why I was put on this Earth. That reason was to meet Dean.

My name is Castiel Novak. I'm 16 years old, and I live in Lawrence, Kansas. I'm an 11th grader at Lawrence High. I'm an Aquarius, and my birthday is February 9th. But this story isn't about me. It's about Dean Winchester.

His is a story that I wish I could have had a larger part in. I wish I could have been there for him through everything, and I wish I could have known him when we were young. Hell, I wish I could just see him one last time. But I can't, and there's no changing that.

Some of the moments we shared, I won't write about. Not because they're not important, or not appropriate, or boring, but because I need to keep something of him for myself. I need to keep secrets, and I need some things to be special. I promise I am not doing this to reduce the accuracy of the story; rather, I'm doing it so there's a part of us that is ours alone.

Beyond that, this story is the truth, and nothing but. It's the story of the life and death of someone I loved, and, while I'm not very talented at writing, I'll try. I'm not sure if anyone else could do it well. It takes place over the course of several months- February to June- so I apologize if I am slow in writing it. I may do many things wrong, but I can't rush this. One of the greatest tragedies in life is having your story told by the wrong person, or in the wrong way. I will not make this a larger tragedy than it already is.


	2. Because you found me when I needed you

Before I can tell you the circumstances under which I met Dean, I first have to tell you a bit about myself. For the first 15 years of my life, I was a very apathetic person. My whole family, with the exception of my brother Gabe and my cousin Anna, told me that emotions-any at all- were hindering and unneeded. For the longest time, I believed them, and I was as unfeeling as the rest of them. About halfway through my 9th grade year, that changed.

I started to feel. Not very many things, at first, and not often or strongly, but already I was different from the rest of my family. I felt doubt when they told me to be cold and emotionless. I felt sadness when I saw people suffering. I felt loneliness when I started to become ostracized from my family. And it was too much. I couldn't deal with it, not alone.

I'm sure some of you don't want to hear this, but I promised to tell the truth. When I started to feel emotion...I'd scope out something sharp- a razor, a knife, sometimes even scissors- and I'd, well, cut myself. Anywhere, with anything, I didn't care. I just needed to feel some physical pain so I could drown out the emotional pain. Just for the record, I'm clean, and yes, I know now it was bad for me. But I was young-I still am- and I was scared, and I was dumb. So, yes, I purposely hurt myself.

Nobody noticed for the first few weeks. Not even Gabe. They never really paid attention to me, except when they were angry with me. One weekend, though, Anna was over for a visit- a rare but not entirely pleasant experience, though I was more fond of her than the rest of my family. She was never the best at remembering to knock, so when she came into my room one day to look for her coat, she interrupted me in the middle of... the obvious.

Now, I may not be Anna's #1 fan, and she's not mine, but we care about each other. So, of course, she stopped me. It took a bit of a fight, but eventually she had ripped the razor out of my fingers and was bandaging up the various cuts that lined the inside of my left arm. She looked angry, as always, but I could tell she was scared for me. I was silent.

After much pleading with my father, Anna was eventually allowed to let me stay with her, outside of what the said was a "hostile environment". Again, I was silent. I didn't care where O was. I just wanted to escape my feelings. Though, she had a point. It _was _hostile. Without letting myself admit it, I was glad to get a breath of fresh air, no matter how short.

Anna told me I would be in partial hospitalization for a while while I stayed with her. I didn't object. And that, I suppose, was the best decision I've ever made. Of course, it wasn't great in itself, but the person it led me to, I valued above anything. Still value, really, and always will.

It was nice at Anna's. It's right outside the busier part of Lawrence, so it's quiet but not isolated, and she always leaves the heating on high because I like the warmth. It's a tiny, one-story house, with only a few rooms- kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom- but that's enough for me. The outside is painted cornflower blue, and there's a garden with flowers and rocks in the front yard. In all, it's preferable to my real home.

Anna is 28, so she lives alone and didn't have to explain my presence to anybody. It was hard enough getting permission from my father, and I'd imagine whomever she'd live with wouldn't be thrilled to have me. By the time we got to her house, it was late in the day, so she gave me some blankets and told me to get some rest. She told me, too, that I'd be going to the hospital in the morning. I tried not to worry, and failed. After little sleep, I gave up trying at around 6:00 A.M.- 3 hours early- and got ready.

The hospital was close, so it took only a few minutes for Anna to drive me. I was nervous all the way. The hospital seemed nice enough, though- smiling staff, nobody sobbing- so I let my guard down a bit. Even so, as I made my way up to the main room the program was held in, I was astonished by how much nicer than expected it was. Mid-morning sunlight shone through a large window, and the seats lining the outside of the room were warm and cushioned.

There was only one person in the room when I arrived. He was tall, but still appeared younger than me. I had an amulet hanging from from around his neck, and he was clad in multiple layers of plaid flannel and a large, brown, leather jacket. He looked up at me and I stopped for a moment, panicking. Then he smiled at me, somewhat somberly, though friendly all the same. I won't forget that, ever.

"Name's Dean," he said. His voice was odd- deep and scratchy, too old for his age, and it nearly broke my heart. This boy had been through Hell, and I could tell it just from the way his shoulders were slumped and how his legs shook with hidden anxiety. All of that went through my head in a moment- the moment I met Dean Winchester.


	3. Because you were and still are family

Besides Dean, the rest of my partial hospitalization experience was...not the greatest. I found it almost terrifying to talk in group, and besides that, most of the other members were people I didn't particularly care for. Ruby, a dark-eyed, brown-haired senior, had the same problem as me- only she was much more resistant to help. Meg, a curly-haired junior, was nice on the surface, but had a ferocious temper. Lisa, well, thinking back on it, I was very likely only jealous of her. She had long, sleek, dark hair, and admittedly flawless skin. Dean obsessed over her. I did not.

I talked to Dean whenever I could, and I found some things out. His last name, of course, was Winchester. He was 15 years old, a 9th grader at the same school as me. He was an Aquarius- January 24. He liked pie, classic rock, sunsets, long walks on the beach, "frisky women" (his words, not mine). He had a little brother named Sam- though he affectionately referred to him as "Sammy" and glared at anyone else who called him that. He liked history, science, and English the best out of all of his classes. Sam gave him the amulet for Christmas when they were younger. He was a perfectly normal, perfectly...perfect boy. He wanted to kill himself.

From the moment I met him, I was fiercely protective of Dean Winchester. So when I heard that, I didn't want to believe it. I promised myself we'd keep in touch. I needed to keep him safe, no matter what happen or what I'd feel (or not feel). Even if we barely knew each other, I think we both knew that. It was in my nature somehow, in my blood, and I didn't really _want _to change it.

I was at the hospital 6 hours a day, 5 days a week. Anna drove me home at 3:00 P.M. every day, and back at 9:00 A.M. In itself, the program didn't help, but I did have someone to get through it with. In all honesty, he was the only reason I did not drop out. That, and the fact Anna probably would have killed me herself if I did. But mostly Dean.

Forgive me if I don't give much detail about the hospital. It was incredibly uncomfortable, to be quite honest. I was only telling you because it's necessary for the story. The whole program, though, only lasted three weeks. That was the one (well, not quite _one_) thing I was glad for. After all, afterwards I'd get to go back to school. The people at school weren't the friendliest, but at least I got to learn.

Dean and I would have left on the same day, had I not felt as if I needed to stay. Maybe if I found a way to help myself, I could help him more. But there was nobody and nothing there that could help. I left seven days later. He told me afterwards that he missed me. I was kind of happy to hear that, though I wish he could have been happier- less lonely.

Since we were there in the winter, we missed a few weeks of school. Because Dean was in the year below me, it made it that much easier for him to get caught up on his work. He must have worked hard, because within a couple weeks he was done with the missed homework. It took me a month. Unfortunately, we never had any classes with each other. But every day, when our classes were over, Anna would pick the two of us up outside the school.

It goes without saying that Dean did not have a good life at home. His father, John Winchester, was someone I'd never like to meet. I'm hoping I don't have to. Dean has told me that he's verbally and psychologically abusive, and, while I'd like to protect him, there are some things that are out of my power. It was hellish, not being able to help him, but I was- still am- only 16. I still felt guilty, though.

Due to all of that, Dean was usually at my house. Anna had filled out some paperwork and was now my legal guardian, so I lived at her house, and she was more than willing to have him over. If you're wondering, no, my parents didn't care that she took me in. On occasion, Dean brought Sam over, but that was a rare occurrence. Normally we just spent time alone with each other. I suppose being alone with him was the reason a lot of what happened, happened.


	4. Because you were my first

I'd never really had romantic feelings for someone before. In all my 15 years, I'd never been infatuated, never had my heart beat faster when someone came near. I still didn't really have those kinds of feelings towards Dean. It was something deeper. He didn't excite me, he relaxed me to the point of making me feel grounded, valued, and loved. I wasn't just infatuated, I really cared for him, and I didn't really care about who he was with, as long as he was happy.

I tried to tell him one day. We were on my bed, in pajamas since it was getting late, and we were kind of just staring up at the ceiling. He was talking about mechanics, as usual, but then there was a lull in the conversation. I thought I could try and tell him that I... But the words were stuck in my throat. I was too shy, too unsure, and too, well, everything. I wasn't even sure if this wasn't just what having a friend felt like.

In the end, it was he who made the first move. He said he needed to move, that he needed to exercise, and so we went on a walk down the dusty streets that crossed like a web around Anna's house. I tripped on a stone and scraped my knee, and, while I felt fine, Dean insisted on helping me up. He took my hand and got me to a standing position. He didn't let go afterwards.

...We kissed in front of the old oak tree, its leaves illuminated by the rays of the setting sun. I felt something- love? Really truly felt it. It was glorious- the best thing I'd ever felt, really, but I guess everyone probably says that. When we finally let go of each other, though, I could tell Dean felt off about something. I asked him why, and he just mumbled something about his father.

He ran off.

I'd screwed up again.


	5. Because our love was not an injustice

Dean was back at school the next morning. He was quiet, but still friendly. He just wouldn't talk about what had happened the previous night. I wanted to shout it to the world: _Dean Winchester is loved. _Because, wasn't love supposed to be a good thing? A happy thing? And... wasn't that love? I didn't get it. But, then, there weren't many things I _did _get about Dean.

He was silent on the car ride from the school to Anna's house. He looked away from the oak tree when we passed by it. And he never once met my eyes. Why couldn't he, I wondered? Why couldn't he tell anyone, or even be happy? And why would his father, of all people, care? My head was writhing with questions, but I couldn't sort my thoughts out enough to get any out.

Turns out, I'd get the answers anyway- and soon. Anna was grilling burgers outside for dinner, and Dean and I were alone in my bedroom. He told me everything. He didn't look at me the entire time. His father, he told me, wasn't a drunk or a normally violent man. The only reason he screamed at his sons was because he didn't want them to end up gay. Day in, day out, he'd remind them not to do anything "faggy" or "homosexual" or God knows what. There was no reason for him to think that Dean wasn't straight, besides what happened the night before, and how would John know about that? Besides, who would- who _could_- do something to someone I loved because of _their _love?

I could tell, though, that he was ashamed. He'd gone his whole life being taught that it was wrong, a sin, and now he was going against everything he knew, or thought he knew. I knew how it felt. Feeling like that was what brought us together. I hoped and prayed with every fiber of my being that it wouldn't be what tore us apart.

He slept at my house that night. He was scared- and he had a reason to be. To the trained mind, it was obvious when he felt guilty, and I'm sure his father would pick up on it. I needed to keep him safe, _needed _to or I don't what what I'd do. And I should have. I should have kept him safe.

Late in the night, but before either of us fell asleep, he started to cry. It killed me inside because God, I wish so much he could be happy. I ran my fingers through his hair and he sobbed into my shirt. He fell asleep, still whimpering, as I rubbed his back and sang _Hey Jude._


	6. Because I learned from you

It was days later. A Monday. Dean came back to school with bruises. I loved him, and... and I think he loved me. But his father, his father hated it. I don't know how he found out. But he drove him to the brink.

There was a note.

He'd see me on the other side, he wrote. But not too soon. But what about him? God, it was too soon, and it was all my fault. If I could have just controlled myself... But I couldn't. I couldn't. And... is that love, or just greed?

I felt it starting up again. My wrists itched, my fingers shook, my chest ached. I needed to. I found razors, I locked the door.

I didn't use them.

You taught me something, Dean Winchester. And I won't forget it. No matter what happens.


	7. Because you made me better

Dean Winchester shot himself on Monday, June 1st, 2012. That was 3 months ago. John Winchester was arrested for child abuse shortly after. I haven't heard from himself. I thank God for that all the time. What he did to his son, still would have done to Sam... that was unforgivable.

I'm an 11th-grader now. God, he was only in the 9th grade. He had his whole life ahead of him. A life with me, I'd hoped. But now it looks like I'd have to live that life alone. My family, my peers, everybody rejected me and I finally found someone. But...he's gone now. And even if it's my fault, there is nothing I can do.

My family apologized to me eventually, but I still live with Anna. She is the closest I've ever had to a real mother, even if we don't always get along, and even if she's only 12 years older than me. She holds me when I cry, and I still do that a lot.

I haven't cut since the day Anna found me. Dean made me feel like I didn't need to. And if he changed me, then I'll accept those changes as they come. Otherwise, we'd always be apart. I couldn't live like that. I need to be the person he's made me, even if he was only around in my life for a few months.

I still keep in touch with Sam. He's a nice boy. An 8th grader now, nearly in high school. The Winchester aren't a bad family. They only had a bad father, and now that father is in jail. I'm going to help Sam, always, because I love him like a brother and he had nobody.

I'm moving on.


End file.
